Faith
Distance: 5, Hyper[6]
Faith: 1
Immanuel: 6, <PROMACHOS INSTALL>
Interceptors, Main Swarm: 6
Ice Weeds: 3
Frozen interceptors scream down from the heavens, flashes of light dancing across their bellies, white light and will-o-wisps, pink light and promised doom. Amidst the masses a silver streak rises to meet them. Autocannons deploy, arctic winds and freezing sleet tracing closer and closer. Cynthia lets go. They pay no heed to the drone. Not as it approaches, not even as its cannons began tearing through their ranks. It was the bigger threat and yet it was not their target. No, it was the HIERODULE chasis they pursued.
Free fall. Wings of flame erupt from the construct's back. It's not enough, the interceptors were drawing closer. Icey munitions tracing closer and closer, frost traces across retrofit plating sending a cascade of temperature warning across the demon's view. She suppresses them. Rendezvous point in 4...
3...
2...
1. The lead interceptor
breaks. Half its fuselage shears off, torn away by some unseen force. Its core shatters and so too does its body. Two more succumb to radiation. The air stains a deep red, the remaining pursuers plunge in. Sweet. It smelled sweet. Dizzyingly sweet. It was sweet. Sweet and sticky. Sweet and slowing. It pours into the intakes, it gums up the flaps.
And then come the bees.
Of course, the bees. It's not a honeytrap without bees. Angry demon bees. The typical demon bee is sixty milimeters of pure homicidal fury with hellfire for flesh and exoskeletons of serrated metal. They do not have stingers, no what they have is best described as the bastard lovechild of a shockdrill and a meat grinder. And it's the length of their entire body because fuck you it
is their body.
So naturally the Interceptors gun their engines rushing down to escape the swarm. A real shame they seem to suddenly U-turn and plow right into the swarm. Bees sail straight into their air intakes and burrow into their cores. There are no survivors.
With all that said and done, the rather dismal performance of their vanguard still doesn't seem to dissuade the rest of the swarm which gleefully rush down for their dive-bombing runs. Clouds of napalm burst through the skies interceptors literally falling apart as their shells are vaporized, these are the minority however - it's awfully awkward using napalm launcher when you're directly underneath your target and they're dropping bombs at the same time, many adventures fire as they dodge, it's prudent but it doesn't score too many splashes. That being said the interceptors find it harder to score casualties of their own this time around - the allied forces have wisened up and started to repulse any would-be strafing runs through AoE and sabotage spells.
This time the interceptors don't withdraw, they remain in place aiming to keep up the pressure as the battle devolves into dozens of disjointed dogfights, the largest of which is centered around one Faith Tatsumaki.
Turns out the enemy noticed that energy spike and would very much like to remove it from the equation, a full dozen interceptors rushing towards the magical girl. Big mistake.
Eagle 1 Challenger <<Sachen - Schwerter-einsetzen; Set Up!
>>.
Magic circles crackle to life beneath Immanuel's feet, and piece by piece his armor changes, steel turning to light reforming reshaping, white feathers scatter, his armor looks sleeker now, more stylized bearing markings the man cared not to paint. Fabric flashes into the existence tempering the armor, his cape burning with light as it extends into a full cloak complete with hood.
And around the newly mantle figure, weapons begin to appear.
Piece by piece they assemble; nervous systems of chalk and light entombed within hunks of sharpened steel; cruciform construction, mechanical in design, they could hardly be called swords. Slabs of bewitched metal never built for man to wield.
These were missiles, kinetic missiles, miniaturized kinetic kill vehicles.
But by god they could fence.
Romanticize it, stylize, but in the end what which they call swordplay is simply geometry, physics and geometry.
Positioning. Between combatants, between blades. Deflections and trajectories. Skill is no more than an optimization problem constrained by the limits of the wielder, the heuristics they call instinct, the mechanical realities of their form.
These just cut out the middle men.
Twelve swords. Twelve bogeys. They swing into formation, a sparse defensive cordon, blades perpendicular to the oncoming foes. No one need to charge, their targets would be coming to them. The interceptors draw closer, and closer, streaking toward the gaps in their formation.
The blades were not entirely swift. They could move fast yes, but it paled in comparison the laser drives of their foes. They could make quick dashes yes, but they are only momentary, the distance they could cover was limited.
Such weaknesses can be offset with good formation. The sparsity, the distance from Faith, the angling of the blades. It was death to the Interceptors. They just couldn't see that.
The Interceptors dart through the gaps cannons howling but they were well within the dash range of each sword here. There was no escape.
The weapons slam into their prey, ice shatters, wings sever. There's a spark, a discharge, something somewhere has crossed the gap. The connection stabilizes if only for a moment.
That moment is enough.
Akashic energy crashes through, each sword a lightning sword, a conduit to something beyond this world. A chill stills the air. Temperatures plummet. Tendrils freeze. Ice magic.
It seems insane at a glance, trying to freeze that which was born of ice, but there is method to the madness and weakness hidden behind their strength. The constructs needed some way to protect their cores, not just from heat but from impact, bullets, hammer blows, kinetic impacts.
For this purpose they grew tendrils to dampen impacts, faults and cavities to direct the damage, countermeasures, protection. It is all frozen now. A complex machine reduced to a block of hard ice. In time they could recover. They would never get that chance. The second stage goes off - a kinetic pulse.
Smothered mate.
Twelve interceptors had come. Not one survived.
Spared from freezy gunfire Faith succeeds in pumping more energy into the ice weed, forcing it to down into the networked roots. Unfortunately they seem to be wising up to her antics - she can feel radiation moving, not on its own accord but because what they're inside has started moving. The roots are beginning to decouple. The they're trying to restrict the spread at the cost of lowering their own regeneration rate.
She's got enough radiation to destroy a few cores or infest a larger volume of shots. Main question is which matters more, taking out the infrastructure or taking out the interceptors.
AWACS Fluffles <<All units! Aim for the flowers! We've lowered their repair rate, if you can keep them down the planes will slow!"
>>.
The dogfights are in full swing now, adventurers and interceptors clashing though the air. It feels cold, colder than it is was before. A mist is setting in, visibility is dropping.
Interceptors are closing in on all of you. You don't know where, they're hiding in the mist. It's probably bringing their engine power to down, but they won't need it if you don't know where you are. You need to figure out a way to ward away their attacks, else you won't react in time. Keep your guards up.
. . .Magus 2 Sheriff <<ReaperEye, this is Magus Squadron, we are now in position.
>>AWACS ReaperEye <<Copy that Magus 2, you are cleared to engage
>>AWACS ReaperEye <<Go for easy targets and stay out of sight. They've compromised our drone network so support will be limited.
>>Magus 2 Sheriff <<Heh, well it's not like you needed them eh partner?
>>Magus 1 Goose <<*static*>>Magus 4 Freon <<Targets locked.
>>Magus 2 Sheriff <<Alright, on my mark.
>>Magus 3 Galavant <<Roger that!
>>Faith
Status: Fine
World Line: 1 4 6 4 2 4 1 3 1 4
Alterations: 1.0
Resolve: 0
Distance
Status: Fine
World Line: 4 4 6 1 3 4 6 2 3 4
Alterations: 4.0
Resolve: 1
Immanuel
Status: Fine, 2 railguns, Promachos Install
World Line: 6 1 5 1 2 3 3 1 1 5
Alterations: 3.0
Resolve: 3
Cynthia
Status: Fine
Details: Humanoid vessel and drone holding formation near Distance, other drone far up above
Allied Forces
Status: Moderately depleted
Details: Dogfighting the Crystalline Interceptors
Ice Weeds
Status: Full Strength, one unit caught in Doki Doki Enhanced Clouds of Sunlight and will irradiate when beaming energy, networked roots have been heavily irradiated
Details: Beaming energy to the Crystalline Interceptors, decoupling their roots
Crystalline Interceptors
Status: Moderately depleted, some permanent losses
Details: Dogfighting the allied forces in the mist
Cynthia
A pureblood demon, classification: succubus. A ranged skirmisher who uses fear and charm magic for battlefield control striking a balance between harassing fire and decisive hits. She has three vessels in this battle consisting of two UAV fire support vessels and a humanoid spotter vessel.
Allied Forces
A small force of random students and adventurers whose standard loadouts have been augmented with jetpacks and airburst napalm launchers. Meatshields and fire support basically. Their combat effectiveness increases as they learn from previous skirmishes.